


Hidden Glory: A Closet Story

by lovemuppet



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Closet talk, Glory Holes, M/M, Technically coming out, angel closet, gay closet, there have always been two closets fight me.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:08:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27110017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovemuppet/pseuds/lovemuppet
Summary: "ah, yes, 'The Double Closet': Connected only by a hole in the wall."He had noticed it when he went to hang his shirts that first night. There had been an old pinup calendar about hip height. Dean had chuckled to himself but left it where it was, out of respect for the man of letters whose room this had been before. He had forgotten about it, mostly.Until Cas moved into the bunker.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 15
Kudos: 93





	Hidden Glory: A Closet Story

He had noticed it when he went to hang his shirts that first night. Pinned to the side panel of his closet about hip height, was an old pin-up calendar. Dean had chuckled to himself but, out of respect for the man of letters whose room this had been before, he left it where it was and forgot about it.

Until Cas moved into the bunker.

Dean put his friend in the room next door to his. The two rooms mirrored each other, beds on opposite sides and their closets were right next to each other on the shared wall. Dean opened the closet to show that Cas could (and should) put his things in there. It was then he noticed, again at crotch level, another pin-up calendar. This one turned to June, had a little heart over a date and some faded words. Dean plucked the calendar off its hook to read the wording and saw, to his horror, a hole.

Now Dean Winchester was a seasoned traveler. He had been to plenty of dives and seedy motels. He had shit in a lot of truck-stop bathrooms.

He knew what a glory hole was.

“Is that a hole in the closet?” Cas said, looking over his shoulder.

Dean jumped. “Jesus!” He took a deep, grounding breath and put the calendar back on the hook. “Yeah, it looks like the men of letters were some lonely nerds. Anyway, you’ve got a closet now, dude.”

Cas squinted at the calendar. “Don’t hurt yourself there, Cas.” Dean used Cas’s withering look of irritation as a cover to leave with a cocky grin.

Castiel knew what a glory hole was. It was one of a million things he found to curse Metatron for. There were quite a few pornographies the angel had consumed that contained a glory hole, but the reference was only textual. It carried no emotional weight until he saw it for himself. But that Dean thought differently was... convenient. They had an understanding, and it suited them both.

That the glory hole connected the two closets was an apt metaphor, he thought.

Dean had gone, thankfully run off in fear of their mutual attraction, and Castiel took a moment to inspect the Calendar. He had been trying to read the inscription. “T’s Birthday (45).” He closed the door to the closet with a small smile.

At some point, Dean either knocked the calendar down, or it must have snagged itself on a jacket and fallen from its hook. Noticing it again, he squatted down to get a better look. The hole was bigger than he remembered and the guys who used it had sanded it smooth. He ran his fingers over the opening to test for rough spots. Dean didn’t find any, but he knocked on the other calendar off its hook. It hit the floor with a loud papery clack. Dean tensed, fearing he would be heard and misunderstood, but then remembered that he had left Cas in the kitchen with Sam.

There was no one back here to judge him for being curious.

Dean stood and closed himself inside the closet quietly, his breath echoing a little in the cedar-enclosed silence. He undid the fastenings of his jeans slowly, trying to make as little noise as he could so as not to hear what he was doing over his own heartbeat. The scrape of cloth as he pulled his pants and underwear both down made it hard for him to swallow. The thrum of anticipation in his body was enough to make him partially erect. Dean slid the palms of his hands over the skin on his hip bones, letting his eyes shut against the darkness of the closet. He leaned back slightly and jumped when the hem of a flannel shirt brushed along his bottom. A nervous chuckle escaped and relieved some of his tension. Dean stroked his cock with renewed confidence.

This was his closet, damn it, he could fuck the walls if he wanted to.

Once he was powerfully erect, he put his girth through the hole, his body flush with the smooth cedar wood of the closet. There he rested, forehead pressed against the wall, feeling aroused and ridiculous in equal measure. He pulled back slightly letting the smooth, reverently sanded edge of the hole brush his dick, and bit down on his lip. On the forward stroke, he imagined a waiting warmth, plush lips, and a desperate clawing groan.

He had heard a noise come from the closet. Something had fallen over. Castiel put down the Saturday Evening Post and leaned over the side of his bed to see that the calendar had fallen away, exposing the glory hole and light from Dean's bedroom. He almost went back to the Post when he heard Dean's closet closing and saw the light of the bedroom disappear.

 _Had Dean? It must have been an accident._ He looked back at the post but could feel the hole in the wall mocking him. It’s placement, it’s very existence, reminding him of everything still left unsaid between him and the man on the other side. Soundlessly, he got out of bed to replace the calendar. It was in his hands when Dean’s erection penetrated the hole between them, inches from Castiel’s face. He blinked.

Dean’s genitals were in his closet.

Castiel watched as Dean thrust into the hole, using the edges as stimulation. He slid into the closet and closed the door, taking care to be unheard even as a lewd groan from Dean shook Castiel enough that he almost let go of the handle to the closet.

After watching Dean masturbate with the closet wall for a while longer, Castiel removed his coat and hung it on a hanger behind him. The movement next to him slowed but did not stop. Castiel leaned a slack clad pant leg next to the hole, allowing Dean’s erection to graze it. He could hear the hunter gasp and he slowed his thrusts, missing the edges in favor of rubbing himself on Castiel’s pant leg.

Encouraged by this, Castiel got down on his knees in front of the hole. Without the pant leg, Dean had halted his movement, erection standing proud and ready for him. Castiel took the appendage between his thumb and middle finger to steady it as he brought his mouth over the head. Dean didn’t move, but the whimper on the other side of the wall was a welcoming sound. He eased his head forward and pulled back, setting a comfortable pace to fuck his mouth down on Dean. He heard the scrape of Dean’s fingernails along the wall as he grunted and began thrusting into Castiel’s mouth enthusiastically. He palmed his own erection, pleased by the heft of his body’s own arousal. Castiel fumbled with his pants and pulled his phallus out of the hole in the front of his underclothes.He removed his mouth, using his hand to gently stroke Dean for a moment, loving the way Dean thrust into what was offered him. Castiel allowed the contents of his mouth, pre-cum, and saliva to fall onto his hands. He used this to lubricate his own erection before recapping himself on the appendage. Dean, panting now on the other side of the closet wall, thrust wantonly into Cas’s warm mouth. The lack of a gag reflex allowed Castiel to almost swallow Dean to the root as he stroked himself in tandem.

The movement became frenetic, and both man and angel made their pleasure known from the privacy of their closet. “Cas I’m gonna-” That admission was enough, Castiel spent himself, seed dropping to the discarded calendar in front of him. He clamped his lips a little tighter around the shaft of Dean’s dick, daring him to withdraw. Dean groaned and thrust firmly into the increased pressure. Moments later, ejaculate slammed into the back of Castiel’s throat.

Castiel heard the snap and splinter of wood, plastic, and fabric sliding around in the other closet. “Son of a Bitch.” Dean growled withdrawing from the hole. He listened as Dean opened the closet door, broken bits, and clothing spilling out onto the floor. The light from the room illuminated Castiel’s closet, and he used it to readjust his clothes.

He came out with a small, satisfied smile.

**Author's Note:**

> the episode "Lily Sunder has Some Regrets" is my favorite episode. I love the concept of Castiel being in the "angel closet" about his love for...humanity.


End file.
